Yours Again
If I were to die and be reborn into flesh,
But my tongue were to forget its words,
and my heart knew another kin,
and my skin a different pigment,
I would only wish to be yours again.
For before I knew my name,
I was taught yours:
I can’t remember when
your love was sown in my heart
and your grief became mine
Was it when my mother took me to my first majlis?
Or when my father carried me to my first juloos?
When my little hands struck my chest before I even spoke?
Or when I first drank from your sabeel, water you were denied?
For every time I hear your name,
my eyes flow as if
the Euphrates now begs
to be purified,
seeking redemption
through the tears I shed for you.
My head bent in your grief,
a willow weeping
tears beaded over my cheeks
like a string of its leaves,
your love has set its roots deep.
So if I were to die
and be reborn with your love,
I would wish to die
a thousand times.
For what is my life’s worth,
if not a ransom
paid in your service?
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